Confession
by Circenox
Summary: "I love you." Sam is kneeling next to his brother's bed, hands spread out over the side of the mattress. He's fifteen, should be asleep because he has school in four hours, but he's too distracted. Teenchester; Wincest.


**This was written for my darling Kate.**

"I love you." Sam is kneeling next to his brother's bed, hands spread out over the side of the mattress. He's fifteen, should be asleep because he has school in four hours, but he's too distracted, his brother's even breathing keeping him awake. So, he watches Dean sleep, memorizing details like where his freckles are, the length of his eyelashes, the slight curve in his nose from when he broke it two years ago. "I'm _in_ love with you."

As soon as the words leave his mouth, Dean shifts and Sam's heart leaps into his throat. He can feel his heartbeat distinctly, a pulsing in his fingertips, accelerated from the threat of being caught. But Dean sleeps on, and so Sam gets a little bolder, slowly reaches out and places his hand over where he thinks his brother's heart is. Though faint, he can feel Dean's heartbeat against his palm, feel his own in his fingertips, and he smiles.

It's the closest he's ever felt to Dean.

He's in love with him, head over heels in a way that scares the shit out of him. He knows it's wrong, could feel it in his gut from the moment he realized it, but he doesn't care anymore. The warmth that he feels when with Dean makes spending nights in motels feel like home. He can't tell him, not when he's awake and can hear him and hate him and never want to see him again because of it. No, better to save that for the middle of the night, when he's the only one still awake and Dean is lost in his dreams. That way, he doesn't have to risk everything.

Dean shifts again, and Sam immediately withdraws his hand, startled and worried that he's woken Dean, that he's been caught in a somewhat intimate position with his _sibling_. He squeezes his eyes closed when he hears Dean shift again, pretending that if he can't see it, it's not happening. He's so nervous he's shaking, refuses to move or look or talk or _anything_.

Minutes pass before he finally opens his eyes, and when he does he instantly wants to die and run away and melt into the floor. Dean's propped himself up in bed, is staring at him with this unreadable look on his face that Sam can sort of make out by the light from the window, but not really. He opens his mouth to speak, but every single word in his already impressive vocabulary dies on his tongue, and he freezes. He's been caught and he can't even pretend that he was going to play a prank. He's blushing deep_, _more than thankful for the fact that Dean _probably_ can't tell.

When Dean still doesn't speak, Sam starts to freak out. Had he felt Sam's hand, lingering on his chest? Had he heard Sam's confession? He's panicking internally and trying to look calm and normal despite it, but his mouth is still hanging _wide_ open. He wants to run, wants to lock himself in the bathroom or jump through the window, but his limbs are locked, completely out of his control and unable to move.

The waiting is **absolute** torture.

Dean smiles a small, lazy smile and reaches out towards his brother, pressing his palm against Sam's cheek. He doesn't move after that, doesn't speak or anything, and Sam is as good as stone for all he's able to make his body do. He just blinks, beyond confused and waits for Dean to react or _something_.

It feels like an eternity of nothing occurs in the span of a few seconds, before Dean moves forward and presses his lips to Sam's. The kiss starts out tender, but then Dean cups the other side of Sam's face, pulling him in closer. He presses harder, angles his head so Sam's nose fits perfectly against his cheek, and all but pours his soul into the kiss.

Sam can feel the emotions radiate from his brother, the sheer intensity of the kiss shocking him more than the kiss itself. He understands everything that Dean is trying to say without words, that _it's okay, this isn't wrong, love is love._ He's saying _don't worry, don't panic, don't run away_. He's saying _I love you_ the only way he knows how. Sam kisses back just as hard, hands folding over Dean's and gripping tight, and he can feel his heartbeat racing, feel the rabid butterflies alive in his stomach.

When Dean finally moves to pull away, it's slowly, with lingering little pecks and hands that refuse to let go. He grins at the look on Sam's face, a cross between stunned and content, and lays back down. "Now shut up, and go to sleep."

Sam can't stop grinning for the rest of the night.


End file.
